


As Before

by Rayvah



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, Heavy Angst, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-11 12:26:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3327107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayvah/pseuds/Rayvah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Gold waits, and he watches, and he will perhaps be saved.</p><p>What should Belle do when she catches the eye of the town monster?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There she was.

It wasn't as though he hadn't known she would be coming along this path - she was a creature of habit. And he - he was a creature of another sort. He watched as her short stride, made to seem longer by her ridiculous heels - brought her closer to where he concealed himself. Pushing away from the wall, he emerged from the ally and onto the sidewalk, planning his own path to intersect with hers. As before.

She turned, walking towards the library as she always did. She stopped and smiled as she always did.

"Mr. Gold."

"Miss French." he nodded his head. Had he a hat he would have tipped it - but he never was much for hats.

"We really must stop meeting like this." her voice was teasing.

"Now, that would really be a shame, don't you think?"

She looked away, her eyes shy. "Yes. It would." She fidgeted slightly with her handbag before meeting his gaze again. "On your way to work as well?"

He inclined his head. "As always."

Mirth lit her eyes. "Always? Do you never get a day off? Your boss sounds like a monster."

"Oh, he's the worst sort, dearie." He bit the inside of his mouth to keep from grinning too widely. The wrong sort of smile could spoil everything.

At this she giggled outright, and he allowed himself a moment to soak up the sound. Something he'd said made her happy, and in that moment he felt pure. This was why he needed her. She didn't know it yet - but she was going to save him.

"Don't let me delay you." He moved sideways and gave a gentleman's gesture down the sidewalk "I'm sure your boss would be equally displeased if you were to be late."

"Oh. Yes. She's quite an ogre."

"Only much more attractive."

She blushed. "I'll... tell her you said so. I'm sure she'll be flattered."

He smiled, and nodded as he turned away. "Good day, Miss French."

"Good day, Mr. Gold."

\---------------------------------------------------

As before.

"Mr. Gold." She smiled.

"Miss French."

"You can call me Belle if you like. I don't mind."

"Are you sure you're ready for that level of intimacy between us?"

She was taken aback at that it seemed - and it took her a moment to form a reply. "Intimacy? It's just more of a friendly address. Miss French seems so formal and... we're ... friends, yes?"

He smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid habits die hard, and I'm a throwback for the past at that. Formalities are hard to let go of. Did you know in many countries only those very close to a person and family are allowed to address others by their first name?"

"I did know that, Mr. Gold. - but we aren't in any of those countries, now are we?" her voice was teasing.

"Perhaps not, but I still believe names have importance."

"Of course." She nodded politely. "Well then, Good day, Mr. Gold."

He smiled, and turned away. "Good day - Belle."

\-----------------------------------------

As before.

"Mr. Gold" The greeting was hesitant this time.

"Belle." 

"Lovely weather we're having." It was raining, but they'd both walked just the same. She stood with the tip of her umbrella touching his, forming a bridge.

"It's good Scottish weather."

"You must feel right at home, then." She grinned, relaxing. Her smile made him feel at home.

"I do."

"How often is the weather like this in Scotland?"

"Only half the time. The other half, it's raining." She laughed outright at that, and he felt as though the sun had come out.

"Well, I think it's the perfect weather to sit by a window with a cup of tea. Would you... like to join me for one?"

He hesitated. "Are you sure your boss would agree with you coming in late to have a cup of tea with the town monster?"

She held out her arm to his and he took it. "I think so - you own the library, after all. Also, I happen to know that my boss has taken a fancy to you."

"Indeed?" he steered their steps towards the nearby coffee shop, their umbrellas overlapping. "Well perhaps I'll come by and try to convince her personally into relaxing her attendance policy."

She bit her lip to try and repress her grin - he wanted to do it for her. "I would be grateful if you would."

"Consider it done."

\---------------------------------------------

The first time.

She was standing at the desk as Mr. Gold strode in, his cane almost seeming as though it were an escort and not actually a needed aide. Belle looked up at him.

"I'm here to see Belle's manager."

Her eyes flashed in confusion for a moment, not sure of the game he was playing - but she caught on quickly and realization replaced the expression.

"I'm Miss French, and I'm the manager here. Was there something you needed?" She raised an eyebrow, a forced haughtiness masking her amusement. She had joined the game.

"I wanted to speak with you regarding her schedule, if you can spare a moment." 

She emerged from behind the desk and walked towards a small office off to the side near the entrance, gesturing for him to follow. Once inside, she closed the door behind them. It was the first time the two of them had been completely alone. He wondered if he was the only one to take note of the fact.

Turning to face him, her mask fell into one of sternness. "I'm afraid it's company policy to not release the schedules of employees to anyone but family. For their safety, you understand."

"I'm not here for her schedule, dearie." He already knew it as well as he did his own. "I wanted to speak with you about perhaps being lenient about what time she came to work in the mornings."

She frowned. "The library opens at the same time every day. People would be waiting." she shook her head "That can't be delayed."

"I own this building, Miss French. If I were to raise the rent or decide I no longer wanted it open - those people would be waiting much longer."

Narrowing her eyes, he could see her thinking, trying to see through his ingenuous threat. "Mr. Gold - if you were to close the library, Belle would be out of a job as well. I don't think that is your aim."

He chuckled. "Indeed not. However, my request stands - is there anything I can do to convince you to open a bit later?" he took a step towards her, and she looked suddenly unsure. She was lost in their game, but he would help her. "Belle confided that you may have taken a bit of a fancy to me." he lowered his voice as he spoke. "Is there nothing I can do to persuade you to be a bit more... relaxed?" 

She had backed up against the desk in the office, and he found himself leaning over her slightly, his voice a whisper between them.

"That would be..." she swallowed "extremely unethical, I think."

"Why?" he moved to whisper into her ear. "I get what I want. You get what you want. Belle isn't being hurt at all. Why fight this?" And with that he bit down on her ear softly as his arms wrapped around her, pressing their bodies together. Moaning, she returned the embrace, arching into him. He growled, drawing his mouth away from her ear as the contact between them had him clenching his teeth. More, though. He needed more. He returned his mouth to her neck, and moved his hands to pull her hips firmly against his. This. This was as close to heaven as he would be on this earth. Which was to say, probably the closest he would ever be to heaven ever.

"Mr.Gold..." she panted as his hands moved over her. "Mr. Gold...." then her voice took a firmer tone and she leaned away from him. Reluctantly, he let her do so. She moved to face him. "Why do you want me to let Belle come in to work late?"

"Because I like having tea with her." His smile was grim, more truth revealed in that small statement than anything else up to this point.

She simply stared at him for a moment, happiness waring with incredulity.

"Why don't you.. just ask her to meet you for tea earlier?" she asked, the question emerging hesitantly.

"Do you think she would be agreeable to that?" he pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I...I think so. I would, if I were her." she swallowed, giving an uneven smile.

"Hmm. Thank you then, Miss French - you have been extremely helpful." He leaned into her once again, this time kissing her fully on the mouth, burying his hand in her hair for one moment... and another... then pulled away.

Straightening his suit jacket, he gave a nod as Belle still panted, leaning against the desk - looking so delightfully disheveled.

"Good day, Miss French."

He left, closing the door behind him.

\--------------------------------------

They met on the street, once again, only Belle was twenty minutes earlier than usual. Mr. Gold watched as she slowed her pace as she approached their "spot", looking around nervously. He pushed away from the wall and stepped into the open, walking towards her.

"Belle - how delightful to see you this morning. I was saddened at the thought I may miss you when I decided to leave earlier than usual."

She bit down on her lip, her demeanor nervous and charming. "I just had a feeling I ought to come sooner - it was as if someone told me to."

"Hmm." He smiled thinly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips which had suddenly gone quite dry. "Well, since you are here - perhaps I can convince you to take a cup of tea with me before you go?"

Her smile softened, becoming slightly less nervous. 

"I believe you could, Mr. Gold."

His lips quirked up in a half-smile, and he held his arm out to her. She slipped her hand through and he steered them both towards the nearby diner.

"Perhaps we could make a daily ritual of it?" he inquired delicately, not looking at her.

"I'd like that."

\--------------------------------------------------

They met every day in the diner, and he always waited for her within - no longer relegated to lurking by the wall outside to pretend a chance encounter. It was nice, he decided. Though he bristled when another patron would give them an odd look, he also relished the fact that he was publicly laying claim to her, however small it might be.

They were drinking companions. They were... friends. More or less.

"So I suppose this means your boss has finally decided to relax her policy on punctuality."

Belle's eyes widened as she looked down at her watch. It was past time for her to of left for work, but on this day he'd decided not to point out the fact immediately. It was getting harder and harder to let her go.

"Oh shit." she muttered, gathering up her things. "I'm going to be late."

"Just tell your boss you were with me - I happen to know she likes me."

Belle kept her eyes focused on adjusting the strap of her purse, her face flushed, trying to decide how to reply to him. He loved her uncertainty.

"I don't think simply liking you is enough to make her forgive me keeping all our readers waiting on the street." She stood tall, fixing him with a mock glare. He simply grinned and leaned back into his chair.

"Then I suppose I'll have to try harder."

She blushed again, and without reply hurried out the door, her tall heels only slightly impeding as she made her way quickly in the direction of the library.

Yes, there was a lot he loved about Miss Belle French.

\-------------------------------------------

"Miss French."

She stopped, her eyes wide as she clutched a pile of paperwork in her hands that she'd been working with at the front counter.

"M-Mr. Gold." Her stuttering voice was colored with shock. "I, um... wasn't expecting you."

"Well, this is a public building is it not? I assume I'm welcome."

"Oh, of course, I just..." she squeezed her eyes together for a moment, and purposefully set her stack of papers down. She took a steadying breath and he watched with a certain fascination as she attempted to slip into the alternative role she'd come to assume. "What can I help you with?"

"I simply wanted to apologize for any inconvenience caused this morning by the lateness of your employee. She was with me, I'm afraid; so I take full responsibility."

She hesitated slightly, hands smoothing over the counter for a moment before she replied.

"That's very generous of you, Mr. Gold, but my employees are responsible for being here on time, regardless of circumstance. I can't make excuses for them simply because you ask charmingly."

"You think I'm charming? Why, Miss French, I'm flattered." She blushed and looked away. She was out of her depth - which was fine. He wanted her to drown in him. "Let me at least try to explain. In your office?" he raised an eyebrow. He could imagine every thought she must be having at the moment. Last time they'd stepped into her office things had gotten rather heated. But maybe they wouldn't this time, or...

"For just a minute." she conceded,picking up the papers she'd set down earlier as he followed her to her office. He closed the door behind them as she took a step into the room to place her burden on the desk.

"Mr. Go..." she began to turn around but he was there too quickly, pressing himself against her back. Holding her in place. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her neck, touching the tip of his tongue to her skin as he trailed kisses from her ear to her collarbone.

"Mr. Gold." she panted, arching into him slightly. He growled and pulled her harder against him. "Is this your way of..." she swallowed "making things up to me?"

"Just wait." he whispered against her neck, as his hand bunched in the material of her skirt, pulling it upward. She tensed against him, but didn't protest as he slipped his hand beneath her skirt and slid his fingers into the waistband of her underwear. Then, as if she had reached a some breaking point, she began to struggle against him.

"I'm sorry, I can't..."

"Belle." he whispered it into her ear, and she went still. "It's alright - it's me. It's ok to let go." he laid his palm flat against her mound, experimentally sliding two fingers around her clit, causing her to gasp. "It's alright to let this happen - if you want it." 

He tensed awaiting her response - but then the woman in his arms relaxed imperceptibly. Letting out a breath of relief, he tightened his arm around her hip, bracing his other arm against the desk as he pinned her there. Gold allowed his fingers to explore her, and she melted into his embrace. Her head would fall forward and he would arch into her, then as she arched back he would take advantage of the expanse of her exposed neck - keeping both his fingers and lips moving against her.

Soon she began to grind harder against his hand, and the pressure of her behind against his own erection had him clenching his teeth. He wanted to bury those teeth in her skin. Make her his.

No. That could wait. Instead, he obliged her desire by inserting a finger into her entrance. She cried out, and he waited a moment to insert another. She was so very tight, it must have been a long time since she'd been with anyone. She began taking the lead, however, and suddenly they were both moving quickly, her hips thrusting down against his digits as they pressed forward to meet her. It only took a few moments before he could feel her orgasm, both in how her walls clenched his hand, and her body tensed against his. 

"Gold... " she groaned in a soft whisper, even in this moment conscious of their surroundings. Or perhaps she was simply quiet in her passion. He wondered what it would take to make her scream.

Slumping against him, her tremors past, he withdrew his hand from under her skirt. It was tempting to lick the juice from his fingertips, but he refrained - taking a tissue from the desk instead to clean himself with. He hadn't earned the right to taste her yet.

She had turned around, breathless, sitting on the edge of the desk and studying him with expression that was part sated, part fearful. She didn't know where she stood with him, and for a moment they had stopped pretending. 

"I hope that makes up for things." he brushed a finger against her cheek, and she closed her eyes briefly.

"Yes." she sighed, but after a moment stood abruptly and turned away from him. Gold frowned. "I need to get back onto the floor, Mr. Gold. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course." He refrained from offering to help her onto the floor, certain the innuendo would not be well received at this moment. "Let me know if your employee misbehaves further. I do feel personally responsible for her actions."

"Of course." she smiled at him, but it did not reach her eyes. For lack of anything else to say, Mr. Gold let himself out. He adjusted his suit, preparing for the painfully uncomfortable walk home. Thank god for long jackets. The walk allowed him to think about the interaction at the library and by the time he'd made his way to his own shop Gold was cursing himself for a fool. He'd had his hands all over Miss French in her very own library, then just left leaving her feeling no doubt used. Perhaps it had been a mistake to push her so quickly.

Taking his car back to the library, he was surprised to find it had closed early.

So the next morning he waited for Belle at their usual table in the coffee shop.

She never came.


	2. Chapter 2

Leaning up against the wall, he knew he would present a sinister figure despite his somewhat short stature. An outcast once again relegated to the alleyways only suited for garbage and ill intent.

 

As before.

 

Belle had avoided him for days. The girl might need space after what had transpired between them, Gold fully understood that - but too much space could work against him. While she'd chosen not to join him in the diner, she still traveled the same route. Partly out of the convenience. Partly, he hoped, because she didn't truly want to avoid him.

 

There she was.

 

From this vantage point he could see her eyes flick to the windows of the diner, and pause. He wasn't in his usual seat by the window, and she'd noticed. Another look flitted over her face. Relief? Regret? Gold didn't dare to hope. She took a deep breath, which seemed to fortify her, and walked on, not sparing another glance towards the restaurant.

 

Closer.

 

Focused on the sidewalk before her, she didn't see him as he left the shadow of the building alley and placed himself on a course to intersect her own. She kept walking, her head down, lost in thoughts he couldn't guess at, but hoped to have revealed to him soon.

 

Reaching the center of the sidewalk, he stood, waiting until she noticed him – perhaps before she ran directly into him. A few moments later she glanced up, and stopped, a startled look on her face.

 

“Mr. Gold.”

 

“Belle.” He inclined his head towards her. She regarded him for a moment, then – pressing her lips in a hard line – she moved to walk around him. He took a step, once again placing himself in her path.

 

“I have to get to work.” she said in a clipped tone.

 

“Certainly your boss won't mind if you're just a few minutes late.”

 

“STOP IT!” She shouted at him. He was taken aback at her sudden outburst. “I don't know what kind of games you like to play, Mr. Gold – but I'm done with them.” She pushed her arm out at that, her intention to shove past.

 

Without thinking, his hand shot out, wrapping itself around Belle's wrist. Her eye's once again widened with shock at his action. He pressed his lids together for a moment, cringing. He didn't want to act this way with Belle – but he couldn't let her walk away with the wrong impression.

 

“Let me go.” Her voice was breathy and anxious.

 

“I can't.” And resignation filled him. He had meant to be better than this. Better for her. She didn't deserve the cruel, possessive part of himself that lurked just beneath the surface. Their game had helped with that, but he should have known that wouldn't last forever. Belle took a deep, shaky breath.

 

“Mr. Gold – we're.... friends.” her mouth twisted at the word “but I don't have time for someone in my life who just wants to pretend.” she leaned in closer to him “I don't want to be toyed with.” She made to pull away again, but his grip was firm.  “Let go.”

 

“Belle – yes, we've played games.” he admitted “But in my defense, up until a day ago you appeared to enjoy it – and you gave no indication it was making you unhappy. And now you're angry with me, without any warning or chance at explanation.” he found his own ire growing, with the realization of how true his own words were. “It seems to me, dearie, that you're running away – and perhaps you are not the only wronged party here.”

 

She blinked at him, and stopped pulling away.

 

“I see.”

 

He finally realized how strong a grip he had on her hand, and released it quickly, flexing the stiffness out of his own fingers that had formed. It was his turn to look at the ground now. She could walk away now, and he wouldn't stop her – but at least he'd said his piece, and managed to keep himself partially in control.

 

“You're right.” Looking up at her face, he could see it was thoughtful – still a bit anxious, but there was a touch of apology there as well. “I'm sorry – I haven't really been thinking about how things look from your side, I just thought....” she sighed, “I've known other men that have lied to me, that have been charming but had other sides to them entirely, and I suppose  our... game rather hit a nerve for me. But I shouldn't judge you for the lies of others.” She gave a rueful smile, but her words caused his gut to clench - a mix of jealously towards these other men, and guilt that he may indeed be just like them. Oh, he could imagine the indiscretions of former boyfriends and how that might affect her views towards men – that was not one of his failures, but he was misleading her in his character all the same. He didn't deserve Belle. He should allow her to walk away right now. He decided then that when she left he would not stop her, and he would never darken this alleyway again.

 

But she wasn't walking away.

 

“Well...” he began

 

“We should have a proper evening out.” she said, sounding decisive. “Go someplace that neither Belle nor Miss French have been.” she smiled softly “It will be something of a fresh start.”

 

His throat was dry, but he managed to clear it. She had made a mistake to give him this opening - unfortunately she was completely ignorant of the fact. She had almost been free of him.

 

“That sounds wonderful.”

 

He doubted he'd be able to let her go a second time.

 

* * *

 

As it turned out finding a place neither Belle nor Miss French had been turned out to be a rather complicated task in a town as small as Storybrook. They settled for going someplace neither of them had been together, which widened the net significantly. With Granny's out of the question, they settled for another, slightly more formal restaurant near the edge of town – and by town, he meant street. It gave them the ease of a public setting, but he made sure they were seated in the corner to afford them at least a modicum of privacy.

 

Despite his lapse on the sidewalk during their previous meeting, he was determined to be on his best behavior with Belle. At the very least he would offer her honesty if she asked question about his past – not a freedom he afforded anyone else.

 

“So, you have a wife and son, and haven't spoken to either of them for 20 years?” Her voice was disbelieving.

 

“Ex-wife.” He ground out.  


“Right. Sorry.”

 

“No matter.” He forced himself to relax to her line of questioning. Belle was naturally curious, and she had no idea that he'd not spoken about his family for nearly the same amount of time he'd been apart from them.

 

“If you'd rather we didn't talk about...”

 

“It's fine.” He said in what he was sure was an unconvincing manner.

 

“Hmm.” She looked hesitant for a moment, but her curiosity won out he supposed. “I can understand not wanting to speak to an ex wife for so long... but your son?” She was still looking at him in an apologetic way, sorry for the asking – but he'd given his permission.

 

“He's better off. I'm not a good man, Belle. And I would make a terrible father.” Another word of caution. Eventually, surely, she was going to wise up and leave him to his own once again during this conversation.

 

“Don't say that... “ she reached out her hand towards him, but he didn't return the gesture.

 

“The truth is, I have no idea where they are.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“She left me, and took my son with her – I don't know where.”

 

“You could hire a private investigator...” she furrowed her brow

 

“I know. I don't want to know where they are. They're safer that way.”

 

“Mr. Gold...”

 

“Ewan.” He said it quickly, before he could second guess his policy of honesty for the evening, which was turning out to be a painful endeavor.

 

“Ewan.” She repeated the name slowly.

 

“My name, dearie.”

 

“Yes, but...” He simply raised an eyebrow at her. She sighed. “After all this time, you tell me your name now – are you trying to distract me?”

 

“Not at all.” He certainly was. “You wanted honesty from me, did you not?”

 

“I do.” She reached for his hand again, and he forced himself to allow her to pull his towards the center of the table. “I just don't understand why you seem to think you're some kind of monster.”

 

“You're the only person in town who doesn't realize it.” he stated grimly “And forgive me for wanting to keep you ignorant for just a little longer.”

 

Her expression was unfathomable, but she let the subject drop and simply held his hand for the evening as they finished their meal.

 

* * *

 

 

The evening hadn't been easy on him. He'd made a lifestyle out of not thinking of his past. Being insulting and cruel to his patrons seemed to beat developing a drinking disorder – then probably doing the former things anyway. Now, however, that the memories had started to flow, it was difficult to shut that door again. So he sat with a bottle of whiskey in his room, staring at the floor as he allowed all his past mistakes to wash over him again.

 

He'd always been a possessive man. With his property, and with his family. Milah had been unhappy with their life together for a long time, but he'd refused to listen to her, and refused to grant her a divorce. When she disappeared one night with his son, he was livid – it took everything in him not to employ the vast resources at his disposal to track her down and drag her back. It still took self control to not do that very thing, but it was in his son's best interest if he was not in their life. His ex wife's last letter to him had convinced him of that.

 

**_Ewan, after you had me you never thought of my needs or the needs of your family. You only wanted to own me, but I need love in my life – and so does Bae. If you have any love in you for him you won't look for us. You'll let him grow up knowing the freedom you never gave me._ **

 

He still had the letter. Whenever he thought about finding his son, he would read it and remember. Perhaps, eventually, he would find the strength to let go of Belle, also.

 

He took another drink.

* * *

 

 

“And we'll be adding a whole new reading corner to the back of the library once we finish the renovation...” Belle was gesturing to the unfinished walls in the corner, the beginnings of a new expansion that was taking place due mainly to a large anonymous donation that had been recently made to the library. She wasn't fooled in the least of course, and knew exactly whom had made the donation, but continued in the spirit of their previous encounters – telling him that her boss was most pleased with the gift and only wished that she had the chance to personally thank their benefactor.

 

“I'm sure she'll think of something.” he ran his fingers through his hair in an uncharacteristically self conscious gesture.

 

“Hmm.” she considered. “A banner, maybe – one that would hang on the street for everyone to see, thanking our mysterious but private patron who somehow has an extraordinary amount of private funds for a renovation.”

 

“Erm... No.” He cleared his throat.

 

“Maybe not. Perhaps a parade, then?”

 

“No.” He didn't know how else to embellish his answer without falling out of his role.

 

“You know” she said, smiling “Nobody would believe it was you, anyways.” He looked at her nonplussed for a moment before she realized how her statement had carried across. A charmingly embarrassed blush stained her cheeks.

 

“Wonderful.” He replied dryly.

 

“You know I didn't mean it badly. But you've all but told me you're rotten to everyone on purpose, so nothing I'm saying should be a surprise.” She pulled his arm to draw him between a row of shelves “Tell me you realize you don't have to do this, though, Ewan.” Her tone was serious “You don't have to buy my affection because you think you have nothing else to offer.”

 

“This place was an eyesore. I'm sure your benefactor is doing himself a favor.”

 

“Well, maybe we can discuss this in my office?” she looked up at him through her lashes, a brow raised. Every time they'd been in her office thus far it had been him operating under a pretense in order to have Belle in a compromising position. He had the distinct feeling that their roles were now switched. He swallowed, unaccustomed to the reversal.

 

“Lead the way, Miss French."

 

She did, taking him by the hand to lead him to the frosted window room he'd been having dreams about for the past several nights now. Closing the door, Belle turned to him, pushing him back lightly with the hand against his chest until he felt the back of his legs brush against her desk. He felt a smirk begin to form at the side of his mouth, but struggled to maintain a dignified stance.

 

"What is the purpose of this, Miss French? I am a busy man."

 

"Oh, you are definitely about to be a busy man." she all but growled, just before pressing herself full length against him, burying her hand in his hair and captured his lips with her own. He closed his eyes with a low groan, allowing himself to simply drown in the sense of her for a few moments. Her arms around his shoulders, her leg wrapping slightly around his own, her breasts...

 

Well.

 

Suffice it to say he was glad for the support of the desk behind him. He allowed it to support his weight a little more fully as Belle- his beautiful, perfect Belle - leaned more of her own weight against him in turn. Placing a hand back on the desk he swept some of her papers onto the floor, but decided keeping things tidy landed somewhere around #791 on the list of things he'd like to be doing at the moment. He leaned his head back, feeling more free at the moment than he had in forever, imprisoned as he was between the desk behind him and the lovely creature in front. It was the most perfect life had been in a long time.

 

Until someone knocked on the door.

 

"Damn and double damn!" Belle hissed.

 

"Tsk. Language Miss French." he leaned forward slightly, licking slightly against the side of her mouth.

 

Breathing in raggedly, she pulled away, her features a delightful mix of anger and regret at the interruption.

 

_"Excuse me, Belle are you in there?"_

 

"That's one of the renovators..." her voice began to rise briefly in panic at the prospect of being caught in her disheveled state. He looked down ruefully at the front of his pants, his immediate problem drawing attention.

 

"You should get that, I'll just... tidy up." and he turned around in an exaggerated demonstration of cleaning up the papers he'd strewn about on her desk. He heard her sigh briefly and then the click of her heels as she turned to answer the door.

 

"Leroy, what can I do for you?"

 

"Sorry to interrupt, sister..." Gold could tell he sounded curious about his presence in Belle's office, and felt it was a decidedly good idea to keep his back turned to the other man, focusing on straightening the desk in a subtle but quick fashion. "... but the guys need you to tell us where you want the shelves to be so we can start laying the tile..."

 

"No problem, Leroy." Belle replied, a little over-brightly "I'll be right there. You don't mind waiting for a moment do you, Mr. Gold? I'd really appreciate it if you would. I really want to finish our discussion of your.... budget proposal."

 

He turned back towards her slightly, careful to keep his front facing away from the door. She was standing in the doorway, partially blocking the other man's view of the office.

 

"Not at all, dearie. I'm sure we're both eager to discuss what we might be able to strip from the... budget."

 

Belle stared at him half in a warning manner, half amused before she turned and left, closing the door behind her. Gold let out a breath, the letters from Belle's desk gripped in his hand harder than he realized they had been. He let out of soft laughter - he was too old to be caught in these situations, he mused as he smoothed out the letters in his hands. He found himself wondering whether or not the construction worker at all suspected what had been going on here, and found himself daydreaming about them having not stopped at all when the interruption occurred -- when the sender's address on the letter caught his eye.

 

_Basil & Associates Private Investigation_

 

He frowned, looking over the envelope. It looked like an average solicitation letter, only private investigation firms rarely sent unsolicited mail that Gold was aware of. Looking through some of the other mail on the desk, he found several similar parcels - all from various agencies. A horrible, sinking feeling came over him.

 

_She couldn't have...she wouldn't..._

 

A few minutes later Belle finally strode back in, a wide grin on her face.

 

"I told Leroy that he needed to move the furniture again from the back up to the front because I need the far corner taken care of first, I think that will keep them..." her voice faded off when he just stood by the desk. one hand on his cane, the other holding the envelopes.

 

"What is it?" she frowned.

 

"Why don't you tell me... dearie?" he tossed the handful of mail to the ground in an almost careless gesture.

 

"What are you...?" she took a curious step forward, looking down at the mail, then paled. "Ewan, I can explain." she looked back up at him, her eyes frozen in panic.

 

"Explain what, exactly? About how less than a week after I revealed one of the most private regrets of my life you decide to go behind my back and... what, dig it up even more? Blackmail - is that it?"

 

"How can you even say that?" Her voice sounded shock and betrayed, which was not fair at all - he was the one who had been betrayed.

 

"Well you tell me, dearie what other reason could there be? I have to be honest with you - threatening to tell the townsfolk terrible things about me will hardly make a dent in their opinion."

 

"I want to help you! You have a family out there... you have a son out there who doesn't even know his father."

 

"...which is for the better." he snarled

 

"No! You are not a monster, Ewan. I don't know what has happened to make you believe it of yourself but I'm going to show you that you're wrong."

 

Gold was so angry, he saw red. The hue of her hair, the pale rose of her lips... it all seemed to come into a hyper focus. He stepped forward slowly, his eyes not leaving hers as he leaned forward and whispered into her hair

 

"Never call me by that name again." He leaned away, looking down his nose at her, maybe for the last time. He would never let her this close again. "You don't know me." He walked past, reaching for the door.

 

"Then show me!" she nearly shouted. He froze, turning back towards her. She stood, chin out in a courageous stance that made him admire her even through his fury. "Show me what a terrible, horrible monster you are. Show me that I'm wrong and you're right."

 

He dropped his hand away from the door, turning towards her. His hold on himself was fraying. Years and years of self control and this chit had managed to tear it all from him in a single afternoon. He hated her for it, but some part of him wondered at her power over him. Was he so very weak?

 

"Show you?"

 

"If you want me to drop the subject of your family - prove to me that you are a danger and I promise I won't try to find them." A spark of challenge was in her eyes now. He wanted to crush it. He _would_ crush it.

 

"Let me understand this - you _want_ the town monster to terrorize you?" he allowed sinister amusement to color his voice.

 

"Yes." She clenched her fists at her side, meeting his gaze.

 

He paused, appearing to consider her offer, then smiled.

 

"Deal"

 

The rope of his self control frayed, and broke. She wanted the monster, then that was exactly what she would get. One day her eyes would reflect the loathing and hatred his wife's eventually had.

 

It was just as before.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Gold was in his office, which was open for business just as one would imagine it to be on any normal day. However, if it was possible to read the intent and aura of a place, and if one could, they would certainly give the store a wide berth.

It had been a day and a night since he'd discovered Belle's betrayal. She'd been the only person he'd ever truly opened himself up to, and less than a week passed before she exploited what she'd learned. He was angry; his chest hurt when he thought of it, but more than that he felt...

Liberated.

Yes, he decided - he felt liberated. He could finally allow himself to unleash the cruelty he knew was always lurking just beneath the surface. And not only that but he could unleash it on the person whom was the source of his pain this time.

She'd fucking _asked_ for it.

He began tapping his pencil against the papers on his desk quickly in an uncharacteristic display of impatience. Typically he made a point of keeping any displays of weakness to himself, but he was alone now - and really, who the fuck cared? All the years of practiced self control now just seemed like the universe's joke on him.

He'd already made arrangements for the court to deliver the paper's he'd arranged to the library. It hadn't taken long for him to find a weak spot for the lovely little librarian. In fact, he'd found half a dozen ways to exploit her in only the last thirty hours or so. Non of which could be traced back to him - but she would know. That was the point, wasn't it?

As much as he never wanted to see that woman again, he was, he admitted to himself - waiting for her. She would get those paper's from the court, and rightly draw the conclusion of who had put them in motion, and come to confront him...

Gold broke the pencil between his fingers and thumb. The point of this was to _hurt_ Belle, not to bring her to him.

He heard the chime for the front door, and took a few deep breaths, straightening his jacket. He was glad of it, sedentary anxiety wasn't really his style per se, and he needed to blow off a little steam. It was far too early for Belle to have closed up at the library, and whomever it was on the other side of the curtain was about to get a very bad deal indeed.

But he was surprised.

There she stood, in the center of his shop, in her hands a familiar looking legal packet.

"Miss French, do what do I owe this dubious pleasure?" He braced his hands on the gold topped cane in front of him.

"You want to shut down the library?" Her voice was soft, not angry as he had expected, but almost as though she were on the verge of tears. As if for some reason she hadn't expected this.

"I'm afraid you have me at a loss, dearie. I've no idea what you're talking about."

She strode towards him from her previous stand just inside the entrance and held out the papers to him. He resisted the urge to take a step back, and instead accepted them from her, pretending to read through them as though he wasn't already familiar with the contents.

"It appears as though you didn't get the proper permits to renovate a government owned building." He perused a few more pages, thumbing through the papers. After a moment he handed them back to her. "Apply for the permits, then. If you're looking for the courthouse I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place - it's two blocks over." His gaze he thought was appropriately unfeeling as he held the pages to her.

"I mean to, but they've told me to cease and desist construction until I obtain them - and that the library is not fit for public use until they are done. I have to close it."

He looked away from her, and sighed

"Miss French, I really do believe you should be taking this up with a government official. It has nothing to do with me."

"Doesn't it?" she stared at him "I'm not an idiot, Mr. Gold - your name might not be on these documents, but they have your intent all over them. You said you would show me how fearsome you are, and you've robbed me both of my livelihood and town of it's learning center in a single afternoon. Congratulations." She was now less on the verge of tears, and sounded so matter of fact that it annoyed him - as though she were scolding him.

"I'm afraid your reprimand is misplaced - this was obviously your own oversight in your eagerness to spend the the money given to the library as quickly as possible."

"Hmm." she tilted her head, regarding him silently for a moment. "You know, Mr. Gold - it's amazing to imagine what you might accomplish if you ever decided to use your powers for good." With that she turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her, the bell jingling brightly in her wake.

He just stood there for a few moments, knuckles white as he clenched the side of the display cabinet. The confrontation had gone far differently than he'd anticipated. He stood for a moment, then reached out and grabbed an antique doll on display at the register next to him - flinging it against the far wall, displacing several other objects. He walked over, toeing the ceramic remains that now littered the floor, half a face, unshattered, one blue eye staring up at him dolefully. He lifted a foot and crushed the remainder of the face under his heel. Satisfied, he walked away.

* * *

 

Belle began working part time at her father's flower shop, while she looked for other work elsewhere. Gold could have done something to keep her from finding a job. He could have threatened to raise the rent of anyone who hired her, or blackmail them in a more subversive manner, but he refrained. He'd already gone the route of taking her job, and using the same trick twice without any particular end in mind was, to put it frankly, boring. He would give her time to feel settled, feel safe, before he revealed his next move.

Weeks went by, and from what he'd heard she did find a job as a secretary to the local psychologist. She no longer walked to work via Granny's of course, it not being near that area. Some days he would find himself looking out the pawn shop window to the area they used to meet, and talk, and he found that a feeling of regret stole over him. That in turn only sparked an anger even deeper inside him. It was time to act again. He reached for the phone, picked it up, and dialed a number from memory.

"Hello, Mr. French? I'd like to speak with you about your rental agreement."

* * *

 

This time, Gold finally got the reaction he'd been looking for. She stormed into his shop, all heat and fury, slamming her hands on the counter in front of her causing the display to shake.

"Miss, French? To what do I owe the pleasure this time?" his tone was much more jovial that it had been on their previous meeting.

"How dare you, you bastard!" she hissed, her whole posture exuding tension. Gold was fairly certain she was on the verge of slapping him.

"And what grievance is it you have with me this time?" He tried not to smile, really, but she was making it difficult - he was enjoying this so much.

"You're shutting down my father's store! Why? No, don't tell me - closing down the library wasn't enough revenge for you, now you need to go after the people close to me?"

"Tsk. It's just business dear. It no longer makes sense for me to keep renting to your da in such a prime location when other's would be willing to pay more."

"Oh, right because _Storybrook, Maine_ has such a booming economy." she rolled her eyes. "Just admit it, Ewan, you're doing this because you think I betrayed you."

"Don't call me that." he growled, staring until she visibly flinched. "This is between your father and me. Men's business - nothing to do with you. Run along."

"No it isn't. This is between us." She returned his stare. "At least be enough of a man to focus your anger where it should be and stop using other people as human shields."

"But I'm no man - I'm a monster, remember?" His comment was droll, but on the inside Gold felt incredibly still, and lost, not sure which way to take this fight from here.

"No, you're not. You're a coward."

"I'm not." He snarled, fully aware how juvenile his response sounded.

"Really? I happen to think you're afraid of people getting close to you because it means you might have to actually face your own problems."

"Careful, dearie." His voice was soft.

"All I did was try to make an effort to help you connect with your family. I wasn't betraying you - maybe I overstepped my boundaries..."

"Maybe?" he rose an eyebrow, moving out from behind the counter.

"...but what you've done to me far outweighs anything I did." she continued stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Only you're conveniently forgetting one simple detail. You asked me to let go - to show you what a monster I am." He spread his arms out "Well, here I am. And now you're not happy with the results of your wish. How surprising."

"I didn't think you'd go so low as bringing my family into it." she huffed.

"Then perhaps you should have been more specific with your request. ' _Oh sir, show me your worst, but do kindly leave out anyone or anything I care about_.' " He mocked. She clenched her jaw.

"What is it you want?"

"Pardon?" He blinked

"I may not have known you for long, but everything I've heard about you leads me to believe you're not a man who does anything without purpose. So I'll ask again: What do you want from me? What would it take to get you to stop this?"

He considered momentarily.

"And what could you possibly have to offer, Miss French? I'm simply finding joy in fulfilling your request, and no longer trying to convince you I'm someone I'm not."

"So you want me to tell you I think you're a monster - to verify this twisted opinion you have of yourself, and you'll stop?"

"I might continue anyway - just for fun." He smiled, winking. Her eyes drifted to the floor, her inner thoughts clouding her expression. He could tell she was trying to think of what to say next.

"Just tell me one thing... why try to convince me?"

"Be more specific, precious."

"Why try to convince me you're a better person? Why make the effort if you're just a monster?"

His mind raced. He'd never expected her to question his motives. He'd been a hundred and ten percent sure that any word she spoke to him would be only to declare her unadulterated hate after the actions he'd taken. Gold could only think of one thing to say that might finally put her off, even though somewhere deep inside the thought of finally doing so made him a little bit sick.

"Every man has physical needs, dearie. You're very attractive, and seemed as though you might have been gullible enough to buy my act. Bravo for seeing through me. I suppose I'll have to go back to paying for it, now." He expected her to storm out, perhaps throw one of the myriad of things that would make very satisfactory crack against the wall or even his own person. What he didn't expect was her to stand there, considering his answer like it was a puzzle she was trying to solve.

"I see. I knew you would say something arrogant and off putting. I think" she nodded "I think I can work with this, though." Looking up at him through her lashes, she stepped forward, well within his personal space. He refused to step away. She might get the impression that he cared what she did.

Then Belle was kissing him, and Mr. Gold stopped thinking. Shock stole over him briefly. This was not among the reactions he'd expected from the petite librarian, but he found he couldn't bring himself to protest. Belle was in his arms again, and over the past weeks he'd desperately been trying to convince himself that it would never, could never happen again.

All the arguments he'd made to himself melted away in the heat of their embrace. There was just Belle - and he allowed himself this moment to forget everything and everyone else.

Then she pulled away.

"I don't think..." she said, slightly breathless "that you're a monster. But I do think that you're never going to find it in yourself to be anything but an unimaginable bastard. So I'm here to tell you that you win."

"Pardon?" He blinked.

"Me and my father are leaving town. The flower shop was really the only thing holding us here, and now we can go home. I suppose I should thank you." she waved a hand dismissively.

"You're... leaving?" He articulated slowly, as though trying to understand words spoken in an foreign tongue.

"Yes. And don't worry about me saying anything about your past to people. Nobody outside this little town even cares." She turned on her heel, and walked calmly out the door, as though she'd just finished running an errand. She walked down the street and around the corner, at last out of his sight.

And suddenly Mr. Gold knew what he wanted.

* * *

 

He'd only been to Dr. Hopper's office on the first of every month to collect the rent - so it was no surprise when the doctor asked him in a confused tone if that was the reason for his visit today.

"I'd actually like a word with Belle."

"Oh, I see." Gold could see that this did not alleviate the doctor's confusion in the least. "I'm afraid she went for an early lunch. I can tell her you stopped by."

"Not at all" He took a step in the direction of one of the office chairs and sat down "I can wait."

"Oh. Well... of course. By all means. Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you." Gold was almost cheerful, thinking of what was about to transpire. "I'm sure it won't be long."

"Right, well... If you change your mind, just knock. I'm simply doing paperwork." With that the doctor retreated behind the second door in the room, surely relieved that Gold's business today did not concern him.

It was, in fact, nearly another 45 minutes before Belle showed back up to the office. Barreling though the door, she looked livid, and stopped short when she saw him sitting there. He rose to meet her.

"You." She spat, as though she didn't even want to dirty her lips with his name.

"I take it you've spoken with your father." he replied calmly.

"Of course I spoke with my father!" she snapped "When he woke up to find his van stolen this morning I was the second person he called after the police!"

"Unnecessary. The van hasn't been stolen. Merely repossessed." His tone was dismissive.

"So I gathered. Convenient that you waited until now to call in the loan he had with you."

"Well, when discovering he was going to leave town without settling with me, I knew I needed to act quickly. Thank you for the heads up, dearie." He smirked.

Belle made a sound of inarticulate rage and lunged at him. He let go of his cane and caught her wrists securely in his hands, only stumbling slightly.

"Now now, there's no need to over react, love." She glared daggers at him, but he merely smiled.

"What is going on out here?" Doctor Hopper emerged from his study, a look of concern on his face that began to blossom into panic when he saw them. "Belle, are you ok?"

She didn't answer immediately, and the doctor moved closer to them, as though to physically intervene. Before he could act on any noble intent though, Belle pulled away from Gold, and he let her.

"No. Everything is fine." her tone making it clear that everything was indeed not fine. "Doctor Hopper, can I have a few minutes alone with Mr. Gold?"

"Of course." The good doctor seemed both hesitant and eager to leave, disappearing once again behind the door he'd only just emerged from, a refugee in his own office.

"No wonder you weren't at your shop." Belle said shortly, stepping further away and around to the other side of her desk, putting it between them.

"You came to visit? You should have called, we could have coordinated lunch."

"Don't be an asshole." she stated bluntly. "Why are you even here?"

"Well, it seems to me that you and your father must find yourself a bit inconvenienced. Awfully hard to move out of town with no form of transportation." Belle gave him a _no shit_ look, but just continued to glare, so he pressed forward. "While I had to take action to preserve my investment, I don't think of myself as unreasonable." Belle laughed at that, but it was humorless.

"Not unreasonable? We might have to agree to disagree on that respect."

"I have a proposal for you." He reached into his pocket, pulling out an envelope. "Something that would allow for your father to get his life and business back." He held the letter to her, and she snatched it away, opening the envelope and taking out the papers.

"You suddenly want to make a deal?"

"Yes." He replied simply.

"Hmm." She narrowed her eyes at him, then looked down at the papers, her eyes shifting back and forth quickly as she scanned the papers, then widened as she reached the end of the page. She sat down heavily, turning the page, continuing to read the document. When she was done, she looked up at him.

"Is this a joke?" She asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

"Not a joke at all - you asked me what I wanted." he reminded her "And I've decided."

Belle just shook her head mutely, staring down at the pages in front of her.

"Belle - will you be my wife?"

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quid pro quo

 

"This is not what I expected." Her voice was flat, all but void of the anger she'd been so demonstrative of moments ago. 

"Well, take all the time you need to decide, dearie. In the meantime I'll be auditing your father's estate." At that her eyes did flash. 

"Don't you dare push me on this, Mr.Gold. I'll give you an answer when _I'm_ ready." 

"Of course" He gave her a slight nod, not completely hiding a smirk at the edge of his mouth. "Have a pleasant afternoon, Miss French." He went through the door, closing it softly behind him. The temptation to wait for her to come running after him was there, but he dismissed it. He would have his answer soon enough, one way or another.

 

* * *

 

 

Gold sat in a chair in the front room of his shop, a glass of scotch clutched in his hand, aerating. He'd contemplated between going home for the evening, or waiting here under the slight possibility that Belle might come to give him an answer tonight. 

The thought that he might be showing her how anxious he was about that told him that he should go on as though he didn't care what she decided. The other thought, though - the one that told him if he went home he wouldn't sleep – that thought made him wonder why should he do that just to show her he didn't care? 

He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the slightly cool glass against his forehead. Fuck, he could use another drink. He tilted his head back, draining the remainder of his cup, and pushed himself up from the chair. He limped slightly to the back room, where he'd left the decanter. He should just bring the whole thing back with him. In all likelihood, it was going to be a long night just between the two of them. 

Just as he was about to settle back into his chair, there was a knock at the door. He set the glass on the counter, and walked over to the door, but not too quickly. Not like he was waiting. 

On the other side, of course, was Belle. 

"Hello, Miss French. Please, do come in." He stepped back, allowing her room to enter. 

"Mr. Gold" she nodded to him as she passed, and he pressed the door closed behind her. He made his way back to the counter, lifting the decanter of scotch. 

"Would you care for a drink?" 

She eyed the bottle warily, but then gave a nod. 

"Yes, please." 

Gold refilled the glass he'd drained earlier, and handed it to her, watching as she pressed her lips against the rim that had so recently been between his own. 

"Well" she took a deep breath "We have a few things to talk about." Gold cleared his throat. 

"Indeed. Why don't you step back into my office?" He held out a hand, gesturing to the back room. Belle, however, shook her head. 

"I can say what I need to say right here." she nodded her head to his previous seat by the counter. "Why don't you sit down?" 

He complied, expectant but slightly curious as well. What exactly was it she wanted to say that he needed to be sitting down? Was she going to turn down his offer, or try to negotiate another? He cleared those thoughts away. She was here now, and that was enough. 

She stepped in front of him, and to his shock, knelt down - placing a hand on the top of either thigh. His legs inadvertently jerked, and he sat up straight. 

"Wh-what are you doing?" 

"Giving you my answer." she looked up at him earnestly, and began stroking her hands slowly up and down his legs. 

"Miss French, I was very careful with that contract, and I don't recall this being mentioned." He wanted to kick himself - what was he doing, trying to get her to stop what thus far he'd only dreamed about? 

"True" she bit her lip, her thumbs moving in circles now and climbing higher up his thighs. "You said you wanted to marry me. But isn't that just a formality? Isn't this what you actually want?" Her thumb brushed over his half hard cock as she gave him a calculating look. He let out a hiss of breath. 

"I want you with me. Forever." he growled. Some of the shrewdness left her eyes at that, and she half smiled. 

"Forever is an awfully long time." 

His hands, which had been clenched around the arms of the chair, shot out and buried themselves in her hair, pulling them together for a kiss. Surprised, she paused in her ministrations, and after a moment she began to return it. When he finally pulled away, she took hold of his wrists, placing his hands back on the chair, and he reluctantly left them there. 

"In that case, I have a few questions I want to ask you - if you'll allow it."

He nodded hastily, relaxing back into his seat. She could do anything she wanted at this point. Smiling, she returned her arms to his thighs, leaning forward and licking a long path against the inner seams of his pant legs. He only just managed to hold back a groan. Her hands then reached to his belt, and it put a strain on his will (among other things) to not hasten to help, and leave his hands on the arms of the chair where she'd placed them. 

She slowly unfastened his belt, and all Gold could do was watch her, his increasingly ragged breathing one of the louder sounds in the room. Finally she had the belt and button undone, and her hands brushed against the bulge in his pants as she drew the zipper down. 

"Belle..." this time he was unable to hold the sound in. 

"Now, now, Mr. Gold - I'll be asking the questions here." 

"I'm not certain calling your name out in pleasure would qualify as a question." He was surprised he managed to be so articulate, breathless as the statement was. She gave him another half smile, and returned her attentions to his lower half, cupping him through the boxers. He thrust up into her palm, pressing his head back against the chair. 

"Regardless, there are things I'd like to know, and I'd appreciate it if you kept the interruptions to a minimum." She looked up at him, and raised an eyebrow when all he did was give her an incredulous stare. Hands at the edge of his boxers, she paused. 

"Well?" 

"Dearie" he swallowed "by all means continue with your line of questioning." 

She nodded, and pulled down the boxers, moving the cloth out of way of his now free manhood. Gold took a deep breath, thankful that he'd drawn the blinds earlier. 

"Tell me, Mr. Gold - why do you want to marry me?" 

Gold blinked, looking down at her, beautiful hair spilling over her shoulders, perfect mouth only inches away from his throbbing cock, and she wanted him to tell her why he wanted her to marry him? 

"I mean..." she trailed one fingertip up the edge of his shaft, brushing the head lightly, and he clenched his teeth "If this is what you wanted you could have asked for it." 

Damn, but how did that woman expect him to form answers if this was how the interrogation was to progress? 

"You're smart, beautiful - who wouldn't want to marry you?" 

She shook her head, leaning back on her heels, and he ached for her nearness. 

"No one would normally go to these lengths to secure a marriage proposal." 

"I'm not normal." 

"I know. And you like to play things close to your chest. But I think I deserve honesty from you, at least this once." 

Fuck it, Gold thought. She'd already seen him at his worst. 

"I used to watch you walk to work. Always. Weeks before the day our paths crossed. You were kind, and open - I thought if I could hold myself back from my baser instincts for anyone, it would be you. I thought you could save me from myself." he gave a huff of laughter "I was wrong" 

"What instincts?" 

"I like to keep things, Belle." he stared down at her "I like to _own_ them. Things, and people - I want to know what's mine is mine. You were so beautiful, so clever; I thought, for you, I would try to keep that in check. But obviously, I'm beyond redemption." 

Belle leaned forward, suddenly taking his cock in her mouth, swirling her tongue around him as she bobbed her head. The sudden fullness of sensation, when moments ago there had been a complete lack had him moaning, his hands suddenly buried in her hair again. She licked at him a few moments longer, her hands clutched around the waistline of his pants the same way his were in her hair. She drew back again. 

"You want to control your instincts with me?" Confused, Gold gave a mute nod. "Then keep your hands on the chair." Once again she moved his hands to the arms of chair, and again he could only nod. "Tell me, Gold - if I don't agree to the terms of your contract, what will you do next? You've already taken everything away from me that you can." 

"You have friends." Gold sighed "I own most of the town, and I think you'd be especially adverse to seeing Granny's diner go under, or Dr. Hopper lose his business." Belle looked at him incredulously. 

"You'd shut down businesses in Storybrook to blackmail me? I hardly think that would be a financially sound strategy for you." 

"Darling, I would turn this place into a ghost town to get to you." 

Once again, she returned her warm mouth to his cock, rewarding his frank answer with her own exquisite form of questioning. If leading an honest life was usually this rewarding, Gold would have turned his around years ago. His knuckles turned white as he clutched at the arms of the chair he was seated in. 

"And if I left?" 

"I'd follow you." he answered quickly. "No matter where you went, I'd ruin you - and anyone you associated with, until you agree to be mine." 

"Such influence." she murmured "and control over others - yet who is as who's mercy I wonder?" 

Once again she ducked her head, and he howled. Moving one her hands to his shaft she stroked him as her mouth gave the rest of her attention to the tip. He was going to finish, he knew it, like a thirteen year old boy he was going to come after only a few strokes of her hand. 

"Belle" she looked up "I'm...going to come." he panted. She sat up, continuing to stroke him, but looking directly into his eyes. His orgasm washed over him, and he threw his head back, but didn't want to break their eye contact. His semen came out onto his pants, staining, but he hardly cared. Belle was at his knees, taming him, just as he'd hoped she would do. He'd just not imagined it to be in this way, more's the pity. 

"Maybe I was wrong about you, Gold - perhaps you are a beast." she gave one last squeeze to his softening cock, and he whimpered "But you're my beast." 

"Then you're my beauty... my Belle." 

"Touch me then, my beast." 

Gold instantly complied, releasing his now cramped hands from the arms of the chair, and wrapped them around Belle, pulling her into his lap and kissing her like she was the damsel and he the dragon with his meal. After he was convinced there wasn't a spot in her mouth he hadn't tasted, he leaned back into the chair. 

"So is that a yes, then?" 

"Yes." she gave a soft laugh "But I would appreciate it if we could at least appear to have a somewhat normal courtship publicly." 

"Normal? You think anyone would believe you'd have me after what I've done to you?" He only half believed it himself, even with the warmth of Belle currently occupying his lap. 

"You underestimate you're own subterfuge" she scowled "Even if I knew you were behind it, that doesn't mean the general public does. I don't want people to be looking at me with pity." 

Gold sighed "Sweetheart, even if you'd agreed to marry me without... encouragement" he smirked "They would still look at you with pity because you're marrying this." he gave an all encompassing gesture to his form. 

"Don't you dare put yourself down. If you didn't try so hard to scare everyone away, you'd have women falling all over themselves for you." 

"Oh?" He smiled indulgently, his hand resting comfortably at her waist. 

"Of course! You're handsome, wealthy, and smart - it's the trifecta of eligibility." she frowned at him as though he were not as smart as she'd originally thought if he hadn't realized this. 

"You don't say? Perhaps I was a little too quick to draw up that contract." 

"Oh!" Annoyed, she elbowed him in the ribs, causing him to grunt, and scrambled off his lap. He hastily tucked himself away and refastened his pants before standing. 

"I should go." Belle stood between him and the door, leaning indecisively between one foot at the other. 

"Stay." he wracked his now numb brain for a reason "for tea." Tea, yeah - that was a good one. 

"Ok." she agreed readily and Gold went into the back room the start the kettle. He stepped back out to find Belle standing behind the counter just outside the back room. 

"It will be a few minutes." he apologized. 

"That's fine." she stated, her voice clipped as she looked away. He studied her for a few moments, certain her anger wasn't only over his teasing remark earlier. The flush of her skin and the sudden refusal to meet his gaze told him what he needed to know. 

Of course. What a bad beast he'd been. He'd been satisfied but his beauty was still here, burning in front of him. 

The thought of having her now, in his shop, was immensely appealing. And this time she would be at _his_ mercy. Gold smiled. 

"You know, you're not the only one with questions, my dear." 

At that she did turn to look up at him. "What do you mean?" 

Gold wrapped an arm around Belle's waist, pulling her to him. He leaned forward and ran his tongue over the edge of her ear, hearing her gasp. He then whispered to her. 

"Well, to start with - why is it you want to marry me?" 

She brought her hands between them, pressing him away slightly. She was scowling. "I think you outlined all my reasons fairly well in the contract you brought me today." 

Gold sighed and pulled away from her in a resemblance of her response to his own answer to the same question earlier. 

"Oh no, you can't use my own technique on me." 

"And why ever not?" he shrugged. 

"Because you're a man and I'm a woman and those mind tricks don't work on us." she stated with a factual tone. Gold smirked. 

"Of course not." he agreed "but I imagine when you go home, you'll think about how you had the most feared man in town at your mercy earlier. How hard you made him and how much he wanted you. I imagine you'll take your fingers and put them inside yourself, trying to replicate the feeling of having _me_ inside you." she breathing was hard, and Gold continued "but you don't have to imagine it, Belle. I'm right here, and I want to. In exchange I only think it would be courteous to give me answers to questions as well. After all, I only want to know you better." He raised an eyebrow, awaiting her response. 

"...ok." Belle agreed. Doubtlessly she thought she didn't have anything to hide. 

 _We shall see._  

Leaning on his good ankle, Gold rather unceremoniously lifted Belle, settling her on the counter. She gasped, her surprise causing her to clutch at him. 

"Where were we?" He traced a finger along her neck, and Belle closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation with a certain unfettered look. "Oh yes - Why do you want to marry me?" 

Biting her lip with a mischievous smile, she replied. 

"Well, you told me that if I married you, you'd restore the library completely as well as my father's business - not to mention the financial perks of being your wife." 

Without warning, Gold leaned down suddenly, biting down on the crook of Belle's neck. She gasped, arching against him. 

"G-Gold!" 

"Let's dispense with the formalities, darling. We're to be wed. Call me Ewan." 

"Oh... ok." 

He paused, bent over her, waiting. When she didn't speak further he licked over the bite mark he'd left. 

"Say it." 

"Ewan." she sighed, leaning back. 

"That name is for you, only." he pushed her skirt up to her knees. "I am for you, only." He pressed himself against her fully, and she gasped to feel his hardness against her. 

"Ewan..." she leaned back, letting his arm support her. 

"I don't think you're a shallow person, Belle. I don't think even my threats or the temptation of wealth would make you tie yourself to me if you were set against it. So tell me why you want me." he looked into her eyes, at the vulnerability in them "Please" 

She swallowed. "The truth is even before we met I knew who you were" she glanced away, "I mean of course everyone knew who you were, but I was more curious about you instead of a afraid. I'd always hoped to have a reason to speak to you, but you didn't own my apartment and..." she looked back "Well, then one day you spoke to me. And I thought you were clever and interesting and when you..." she swallowed "came to see me at the library, I knew it was more." 

He began to kiss down the side of her neck, and moved his hands down to take off the tights she wore under her skirt. She reached her arms around to clutch herself to him, and continued to speak. 

"Even after you got angry with me, I thought 'I can handle this. If this is him at his worse I can handle it, because I understand why he's doing it.' I thought your problems matched my problems perfectly." He looked up and she was staring into his eyes, pleadingly.

"And what are your problems, Belle?" he asked in a whisper, as he dropped her tights and underwear to the floor. 

"I'm afraid." she whispered "I'm afraid all the time, that I'll do or say the wrong thing, that I'll make the wrong decisions, that I'll end up alone or with the wrong person because of it. But I feel safe with you." She clutched him to her "Because you're so inescapable. It's like fate." 

"Fate." he repeated, his voice rough. 

"Yes. Please tell me you'll never let go of me." she whispered. 

"Belle." he allowed some amusement to color his voice "Now that I have you I'm never letting you go." freeing himself from his pants once again he slid into her, and Belle wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. 

"Yes." she gasped, clasping him so tightly that it almost felt that they would indeed become one. "Yes, please." 

She began to move her hips to his rhythm, then urged him with her legs and body to move faster, and Gold threw finesse out the window. They both began chasing their mutual climax, eyes locked. Occasionally he would brush his lips over hers, but shortness of breath caused them to keep their kisses brief. After several minutes Gold could feel once again that he would come soon. He moved a hand to where they were joined, this time wanting Belle to come with him. She gave a wordless cry, and Gold could feel her fall apart in his arms at the same time that he did. 

They stood there in the silence that was only broken by their panting, and the gurgle of the teapot that was now boiling in the next room. Gold didn't know how his life had gone from chaos to perfection in the span of a single hour, but somehow it seemed impossible that things had ever been any different than they were in that moment.

 "Sweetheart" he whispered. 

"Yes?" she responded in a breathless voice. 

"The tea is ready." 

She looked at him through half lidded eyes, and chuckled, pressing her forehead to his. 

"Well, you'd better go get it. That's the only reason I stayed after all." 

"As you wish." He placed a brief kiss to her forehead, and pushed himself away, restoring their clothes to a certain respectability before retreating to the back. 

As he prepared their drinks in the back room his thoughts drifted to the last time he'd married. His bride and his circumstances had both been vastly different from now. Or were they? He paused in his preparations. He'd convinced Milah to marry him for the sake of their unborn child. She'd never loved him, but he'd wanted a family. He was the type of person who used the situation to get what he wanted, no matter the cost. 

Just as before. 

Belle, however, loved him... 

He paused, correcting his thoughts. She'd never said that much. However, she did _want_ him, and that was enough. 

For now. 

Gold finished placing the cups and teapot on the tray, even adding biscuits for good measure. They had worked up an appetite, after all. 

Love. It wasn't something he could force or deal for, and therefore always felt it was out of his reach - but, perhaps, it was finally within it. For the first time in his life he had someone who might be willing to give him the one thing he couldn't buy. 

Another feeling blossomed inside him now. 

Hope. 

Hope for a future with Belle. 

Laden with a tea tray and a smile, Gold stepped through the curtain to meet that future. 

For the first time.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might do an epilogue - but consider this your happy ending! (in so many ways, eh?)


End file.
